Our Secret to Keep
by GayAsKurtHummel
Summary: Neal has a surprise waiting for Peter in his office. Below the desk, to be more specific. PWP Exhibitionism BJ NealxPeter


Peter didn't have the slightest clue where his CI had run off to, but he could only hope that he wasn't getting into a mess that he would have to save his ass from. When it came down to it, he had probably bailed Neal out more than what anyone else would sit back and deal with, considering how easy it would be for him to return to prison, but the man was so useful to the FBI. He was their inside source to the underground world of New York crime and so helpful when it came to cases like the ones the White Collar unit specialized in. He knew how to lie, steal, con and he had all of his criminal contacts and that short one his partner called Moz when he wasn't Mr. Haversham.

There was also a great part of him that enjoyed the presence of someone he could actually look to as an equal on an intellectual level, never mind his illegal past. Whenever they sat down for a case, himself and Neal could talk and have a decent conversation with facts and progress. It was refreshing when he so often had to deal with the pathetic Harvard students he was forced to work with that barely knew how to spell their names backwards and forwards, though he knew he was setting his expectations perhaps too high for them but that was in his nature. He expected a lot and Neal was always so good at reaching the bar he set.

One of the bars stated clearly that Neal was to be punctual and there was never a problem unless the man felt under the weather, which was usual and to be expected with any human being, but Peter expected a phone call then- promptly around the time he usually would have come in. It was one of those days when he hadn't dropped by June's to pick him up, which he was now regretting, but he didn't think much of it. The man would show or call and, if he didn't for some unknown reason, then there was always his anklet's GPS that he could pull up within seconds.

Instead, he continued walked through the rows of desks, past Neal's empty one, and up to the second floor, taking the steps quickly and efficiently as he had done for years. It was nothing more than a reflex to jog up the steps, almost like a twisting the nob of a door that would open to his office. He no longer thought about it, focusing instead on the file in his hand and the mug of coffee he was sipping from. Nodding absentmindedly at Jones' greeting without looking up, he shifted the file underneath his armpit and opened the door to his office.

Settling in at his desk, his legs spread comfortably as he leaned back into his cushy, office chair, flipping the manilla folder open once again, he reread over the boring mortgage fraud claim, sighing at that bored feeling of reading the repetitive words he heard in almost every claim such as this one. There wasn't anything that stood out about the case, nothing he could use Neal Caffrey for- which was something he considered more times than he probably should have, and moved on to the next in search of something more interesting that could grasp his attention. If he could find something attractive enough then there wouldn't be a problem with his CI becoming bored; an uninterested Neal meant petulant whining and a great deal of trouble.

"Morning, cowboy," an obviously fake southern accent drawled, causing Peter to almost jump out of the chair. Had it not been for the forceful hands on his legs, keeping him in place, he probably would have kicked the youthful man crouched beneath his desk. Neal was kneeling on his knees, back hunched forward slightly, and a wide, amused smile on his face, teeth glinting in the early morning light. "Miss me?" he inquired, returning to his normal voice, while his slender fingers massaged into the willing fabric of his inner thighs.

The sensation brought immediate notice to his cock and Peter resisted the urge to groan; Neal knew how weak he became when it came to that sensitive inner thigh, which was multiplied due to the rough fabric of his slacks. "What the hell are you doing down there?! Did someone-" He was cut off when the man's nimble fingers brushed against the underside of his balls, barely hard enough to be notice, but his hips involuntarily bucked towards the sensation, craving more. It still worried him that another agent might have noticed his consultant entering his office, disappearing, and never exiting, but he was quick to provide the answer.

"Did someone see me come in? C'mon, Peter, you've gotta know I'm better than that," he chided teasingly, voice smooth and cocky and clearly the one in control though he was on his knees, mouth so very close. He looked eager and the pose submissive but the cards were in his capable hands, as it usually was, except when Peter got past those defenses, something that was to be cherished. It took a lot of work to get the signature Caffrey mask stripped without a major trauma of some sort. It was far too seldom when he got to see that vulnerable expression without tears to brighten his impossibly magnificent baby blue eyes. But Neal was working on letting him in and that was all Peter could ask for. "Now remember, Peter," he began, the other hand brought up to rest on the inside of his other thigh, crawling slowly towards the crotch of his slacks, "remember that there's a glass wall right there." He knocked his head back vaguely. "Anyone can peek in and see what the head honcho is up to and, well, we wouldn't want the entire office to know he's getting a little head, would we?" He was skillfully undoing the button and zipper of his pants while speaking, never hesitating.

Peter huffed out a soft laugh at the horrible pun, unable to believe how brazen the ex-con man was able to sound when he was beneath his desk, kneeling between his legs, so ready to take his cock. The seductive movements of his deft fingers promising much more than he expected to receive out of that morning at the office. In fact, he had been suspecting mounds of desk work that required filling out. Not that the impromptu performance wasn't enticing- quite the opposite, in fact; they hadn't had alone time in far too long, cooped up in the office of lengthy hours which resulted in being far too tired to do much more than cuddle up on the couch or in bed to watch television. His hand threaded through his hair, urging him on, cock hardening in anticipation for what he knew was going to come. "Of course not. Are you going to get to work or keep yapping my ear off, Caffrey?" he asked, returning to look at his case files and barely moving his lips, so it wouldn't look suspicious to any outside viewer.

Neal shot him a pretty little smile, tipping his head to the side in an innocent manner- a con man's smile, before reaching into his pants and teasing his hard on through the loose material of his boxers. His mouth fell open, licking his lips enthusiastically; he had always enjoyed blowing Peter, though that wasn't something he would tell the older man anytime soon. He was naturally a people-pleaser, which led to him taking care of his partners more so than himself, and he _enjoyed_ it. Maneuvering his cock through the cut in his boxers, he wrapped his hand around the middle, paying close attention to the head. He leaned forward and licked lightly at the pulsing bulb, licking at the edges before pointing his tongue and dipping into the slit, working him to pre-cumming and moaning softly at the salty taste, sitting heavy on his tastebuds.

Curiously, he glanced upwards, making sure that the FBI agent wasn't giving away any signs that he was being sexually pleasured by his guile lover beneath his desk. He was also masterful when it came to masks, a requirement of going undercover often, and looked perfectly at ease, minus the slight twitch of his lips. Peter scanned unseeingly at the files on his desk, remaining stuck on a particular sheet of paper, considering his concentration was stuck on the hot tongue wrapped around his sensitive skin. To anyone else, he might have looked deeply involved in the words he was reading, taking his time in doing so, when his jaw was locked to keep from making any noises. Neal loved to make things difficult for him, though he secretly loved it as well. The adrenaline rush of possibly being caught, in his workplace no less, brought his aching groin to full hardness beneath his ministrations. Peter took a lengthy breath and blew it out slowly through his nose, doing everything he could to keep his cool while his palms began to sweat. He had to forcefully continue to remind himself that anyone could look through the glass wall before him and see everything that was occurring, which sparked his adrenaline and helped to pull his control in a little tighter.

Certain that Peter would soon have been urging him to move forward, complaining about his teasing- _impatient_- had they been in a more private setting, Neal took the initiative and wrapped his lips tight around the head of his cock. The man wasn't lengthy, but he made up for it in the width department, and it fit snugly between his stretched lips. He loved to have the heavy length resting against his tongue, tasting the thick heat as it filled his mouth and made his glands salivate. He took a long moment to explore, testing the waters as he had done when their relationship had been fresh and new, wanting to make this last and make it something to remember as their first bout of exhibitionism. The act was something they had talked about for quite some time but he knew this move on their chess board had not been anticipated, though it definitely wouldn't cause harm as most of his unexpected moves tended to do. His tongue traced every bulging vein it could find, wrapping multiple times around the glans and tonguing at the sensitive edge of the skin.

Eyes remaining closed upon blinking for a few moments too long was the only slightly obvious sign that something else might be going on. Even then, it could have easily looked like he was tired from a long night of little sleep. The slow way in which Neal was lapping at his cock, yet acting so eager to please, made this particular blow job stand out, never mind the fact that they were in an area where they could easily be caught. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make this as pleasureful as possible, and Peter was enjoying every second of it. The words on the sheet of papers before him started to blur together as Neal's tight mouth moved farther down his cock, tugging slightly at the skin that had yet to be completely lubricated by his spit. When he moved back up, the man took a swift moment to glance down, catching the way the early morning light pouring in from the crystal windows behind them made the wetness on his cock glint ever so slightly before his attention was immediately grabbed by the door of his office opening.

It took amazing amounts of self-control on Peter's part to pay attention long enough to realize that it was Diana who had walked inside of his office and he forced a small smile, trying to act completely natural while his heart was bounding against his rib cage. A small bead of sweat slipped down the side of his face, from his temple to his cheek, and he quickly wiped it off, laughing softly. "Is it abnormally warm in here to you or is it just me?" he inquired, the slightest strain to his voice, hand gripping the handle of his coffee mug tighter than usual. Neal's head was unrelentingly bobbing up and down, remaining perfectly silent, as if he didn't exist. A sudden suction caused him to jump as the man's cheeks constricted around his cock, stuttering slightly in his sentence as he was attempting to tell his coworker about the certain files he wanted retrieved and other various, every day tasks she needed to get done. Concentration wasn't something he could easily come back at the moment and he continuously glanced down at the file on his desk, seemingly lost in thought, before Diana snapped him out of it.

Neal felt like he had cracked a terribly difficult case or pulled off this great, large heist, but with his satisfaction tripled because he knew this was making things rough on Peter. He knew that the man was having a very hard time focusing, with his lips wrapped tight around the base of his cock and the head slipping down his tight, convulsing throat. The warm heat swallowed him up and he couldn't take his eyes off of the older man's face for a second, too entranced by the way his mask slipped up every now and then, with small things that he was sure Diana wouldn't be able to notice. The idea that she could so easily walk around the desk and look down to find Neal kneeling on the ground, between his boss's legs, and sucking his hard cock into his mouth gave him this thrill like he couldn't imagine. He was trying to stay as still as possibly, minus the steady movements of his head as it bounced up and down along the length, tasting as more precum fell onto his tongue and feeling each vein as it pulsed with the pounding blood.

The second Diana left the room, Peter's fist was in his CI's hair, holding him tight against the curls of his dark pubic hair and cumming down his throat. The white, thick ropes coated his throat, forcing its way down, and he did his best to swallow back against the salty taste and immediate response to choke. A little dribbled out of the side of his mouth, hands gripping tightly at his lover's bare thighs to keep himself grounded and remind himself that he could do this, that Peter was there. Once he had finished up, Neal made sure to lap up any excess, his tongue flicking out to grab the few drops that had escaped, only pulling a slight face. The taste of the man's orgasm wasn't anything close to a candied treat but he didn't particularly mind it, especially because of how much he enjoyed it when Neal swallowed. Something about staking his claim, inside and out, as per his delicious possessiveness that tended to spill endearments such as _'mine'_ whenever they were stuck in the heat of an intense scene.

"Good boy," he praised, his voice going gruff as it always did post-orgasm, and Neal flashed him a prize-winning grin as his hand stroked through his hair. He hadn't gotten off at all, was still hard in his boxers and leaking precum, but Peter would take care of him once they got off of work. He had nothing to worry about in that department; whenever Neal took care of him, his lover always responded in kind. Their relationship wasn't exactly conventional, but it worked for them and gave them all they needed, so who cared what anyone else might think?


End file.
